Saving Face
by S. Faith
Summary: After reading several entries from Bridget's diary, Mark takes off like a shot. What was going through his head? Here's a possibility.


**Saving Face**

© 2006 S. Faith

For Carly, who wanted a little something from Mark's POV. I know I keep going back to this scene -- but I do like it a lot. (The diary entry is transcribed from the diary page on screen during the movie.)

* * *

_Nov 10th 133 lbs._  
_Alcohol units: 5_  
_Cigarettes: 14_  
_Calories: 800 (only out of misery)_

_Down to zero boyfriends. Again. Forever._

_Final blowout with Daniel and Mark. Daniel—I almost pitied. Mark—_

"_I dislike him intensely."_

_Can't believe he was so aggressive—really started to like him—glad however made me realise that I can't settle for Daniel._

He read the page, then he read it again in a sort of disbelief. The phrase in quotes burned into his brain, especially horrifying after reading her words declaring "Mark Darcy is rude, he's unpleasant, he's DULL—no wonder his clever wife left him. Hate him. HATE HIM!".

Anger roiled up in him and he set the diary down, fleeing the flat.

As he stalked purposefully towards his own home, though, he began to calm down, his steps slowing as he finally came to a stop. The rest of the page he'd stared at so intently began to finally come into focus in his mind's eye. She'd written that she'd "really started to like him". And that she couldn't "settle for Daniel".

Oh, God. What had he done? Once more his anger had gotten the better of him, only this time, he had blown his chance with the most _alive_ woman he'd ever met, despite overcoming their parents' matchmaking efforts, terrible wardrobe choices, and his own stupid prejudices. Her vivacity made her one of the most attractive women he'd ever known and now he'd never have the chance to get that kiss, because she would never forgive his leaving. And rightly so.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised she had every right to write what she had. He had been an ill-mannered, badly-dressed pompous ass without two interesting or kind words to say to her for most of their acquaintance. And now his leaving on the cusp of starting something new had just proven her words correct.

He brought his fingers to his eyes and pinched the corners, cursing his sudden flare of temper and feeling utterly like a fool, when unexpectedly a jangly bell sounded to his left.

He looked to his left to quite serendipitously see someone leaving a stationery shop, one that was quite prominently featuring journals near the front of the store. Gripped with an idea, he was overcome with hope. He would return with a peace offering. He entered, quickly scanning what was available.

He could only remember the cover of her diary being red, so he chose a very pretty red journal embossed with a silver circle on the front, paid for it with great haste and tucked it under his coat to protect it from the elements, hoping against hope he could convince her that a diary purchase had been of such great importance he had to leave to get one that very moment. He stepped out of the store—

Only to see her standing on the sidewalk wearing—well, he was too stunned to remember anything more than the trainers and the underwear. Her crestfallen expression pained him. Somewhere in the haze it occurred to him that she obviously cared enough to race out to find him.

She babbled on about diaries and how they were filled with crap, clearly quite contrite for the words she'd written that did not represent her current feelings, and he knew then it was a time for a second chance, for a new start.

He held up the diary from under his coat, told her what he'd just been thinking, and he watched her expression change from night to day. She was in his arms in an instant, pressing herself against him so that his nose was buried in her hair.

His eye was caught by the old women that had stopped to watch their little scene, and for a moment he felt kind of foolish, embracing a half-dressed woman in the middle of a London street. He then glanced down to her to see she was looking at him, and simultaneously they burst out with a chuckle. As their laughter faded, he realised he didn't care about anything but getting that promised kiss.

He lowered his head as she raised hers, and they met for that kiss. It was everything he had thought, hoped, it would be. Her mouth was soft and warm and he could not get enough of it.

She pulled away and muttered something about nice boys not kissing like that, which he immediately repudiated before kissing her again.

_The end._


End file.
